


Take the plan, spin it sideways

by A_reluctant_dreamer



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Consensual Sex, Distorted Perception of Reality, Domination, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, M/M, Manipulation, Multiverse, Non-Consensual Kink, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-28 13:31:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20967356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_reluctant_dreamer/pseuds/A_reluctant_dreamer
Summary: "Am I alive in your world?" the man--Tonyasks."You are now," Peter says taking a step closer.- or the one where Superior comes to Earth 616 after Endgame.





	Take the plan, spin it sideways

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is written from Peter's point of view and he gradually loses his grip on reality, which makes his consent dubious and Superior's morality all the more questionable. I'd say that Peter doesn't get hurt in any way, but that would only be his perception. So, please proceed with caution.
> 
> The title is from Placebo's _Without You I'm Nothing_. I recommend the duet version with David Bowie.

Peter is devastated after he loses Tony in the battle, but he can't share his grief with anyone. Their relationship was a secret and Peter won't betray him in his death. He knows the slander it would bring, and he can't see Tony's name tarnished. 

As they watch him grieve however, the Avengers start to have their suspicions. It's shared by meaningful looks and sidelong glances, but never discussed aloud. They keep Peter in the fold but don't involve him in missions in the fragile state he's in. 

So, all Peter has left is the solitude of his patrols. It hurts every single day because everything out there reminds him of Tony. He doesn't stop though. He can't. Something deep and painful pushes him forward, step by step, fight by fight. He’s chasing something through the darkness.

He's out on patrol when he's summoned to Avengers Tower the next time. Peter is reluctant to go. He's noticed some sort of impact over the river just a few minutes before the call. He's already on his way, wanting to have a closer look but then Karen alerts him again. After a few seconds of hesitation, Peter changes directions. 

He rubs his eyes with his fist angrily before entering the headquarters. The stupid tears won't stop coming when he comes near this place. He finds Fury exiting one of the conference halls. Colonel Rhodes is with him. 

"What is it?" he asks Fury, confused.

"We are unsure as of yet. We sent out the team to deal with it. We are expecting more Avengers to arrive. You are backup."

The man doesn't wait for an answer before walking away. Peter stares after him, irritation bubbling in his chest. He could have taken a look at the disturbance. He wouldn't have been late. He's fucking backup.

He's so annoyed that he barely catches the look Maria Hill gives him. She turns away and hurries after Fury before Peter can check again but he's almost certain he saw pity on her face. His irritation is quickly turning into rage. It's one thing that they cast him aside as backup, but to pity him? She should have fucking put him in the responding team instead of fucking  _ looking _ at him. 

Peter jumps when he feels Rhodey's hand on his shoulder. 

"How are you holding up, Petey?" he asks when Peter meets his eyes. 

As he holds the man’s gaze, Peter feels the sting of tears. 

"Don't call me that," he says in the steadiest voice, he can manage. 

Rhodey's expression is sad and sympathetic. Peter doesn't need it. He needs… He needs to get out of here. He needs a fight. He needs a cause. He needs a distraction.

He walks to the end of to the corridor and stares out of the window. He can't see at the river's direction from here, but he watches the night sky, nonetheless. The disturbance seemed like an illusion, but he heard impact, or at least sensed it. Peter stops in his tracks. He was too far away to hear. So, his spider sense went off… But it's never felt like this before. It was nothing like danger, more like an alert, a reminder about something important that could have slipped his mind. Peter frowns. He can't fathom what that could have been about, but now it annoys him even more that he can't be out there with the team. 

Apart from Wanda and T’Challa arriving, nothing happens for more than an hour. Peter doesn’t talk to them. Then, the team gets back. They are bloody and beaten. Peter stares. Why wasn't he called in as backup? Who could have done that much damage to them? Are they under attack? 

"What happened? Why didn't you call us?" he demands, running towards them. 

When Steve meets his gaze, Peter staggers back. The pain he sees in his eyes knocks the breath out of him. He feels it in his whole body, and underneath, he catches that warning sensation again. Peter looks around and when he recognises the same pain on every face, the pieces fall into place.

"Peter, don't!" He hears Rhodey call after him as he darts towards the nearest window that he can open.

Peter only stops when he's by the river. His heartbeat is racing. Perched on the top of Queensboro Bridge, he can see the signs of fighting on Roosevelt Island. He doesn't need to go closer to tell that it's only collateral damage. If the group returned beaten, it can only mean that the hostile didn't go for mass destruction. Peter however doesn't care about their intentions nearly as much as their connection to Tony. Because the devastation, he saw in his teammates eyes, could only mean one thing...

He jumps from the bridge and swings over the island. Something tells him that he's in the right place. He listens to it. If it's about Tony, he has to find out. He crosses the whole island, flinging from one building to the next, his eyes sweeping through every patch of light and darkness. He's vigilant but there's an impatience that compels him to hurry. He does, until he reaches the park at the end of the island. If it was only for his eyes, he would turn around; there's no point risking his skin in open ground when he can see that the place is empty. Peter's heartbeat and the prickling on the back of his neck however tell a different story. 

Peter steps out from under the trees. He still can't see anyone, but his intuition pushes him forward. He walks to the very tip of the island, as if chasing something invisible. He looks out on the river, but a tickling sensation makes him turn around. Instead of looking around however, he looks instinctively up.

Peter jumps to the top of the lighthouse without a second thought.

Because up there…

Peter stares.

Blue eyes look at him.

The rest is identical.

"You know me, too” the man says calmly after holding Peter’s gaze for a long minute.

Peter can’t speak. He can barely breathe. He’s faint and numb, his whole being focussed on the man standing in front of him.

"Am I alive in your world?" the man--  _ Tony  _ asks.

"You are now," Peter says taking a step closer. He lifts his hand to cup Tony’s cheeks, but he pauses at the last second. He has no idea who the other is even if he recognises every last feature of his face, every subtle change in his expression, every way in which his presence lights his whole body on fire.

The man doesn’t let him withdraw his hand.

“What’s your name?” he asks.

The question opens a hole in Peter's chest. He struggles to keep himself together. It’s him, he tells himself. It must be him. 

“Peter Parker.”

“I am Tony Stark,” the man replies.

Peter can breathe again. He staggers closer, unbalancing himself. He clutches Tony’s arm to keep himself upright.

“Yes, you are,” he whispers, looking up at him from very close now.

The man keeps searching Peter's face silently. In the meantime, however, he covers Peter's hand on him with his own. They stand, gazes locked and even though the cold blue eyes send a chill down Peter's spine, he fights against the dreadful doubt seeping into his mind.

“My welcoming party wasn’t this friendly,” Tony remarks eventually with the hint of a scowl.

Peter remains silent. The man eyes him, then looks out at the river.

“I remember this place differently,” he remarks. “But obviously, my counterpart here didn’t fancy building the tallest building in the city around this lighthouse.”

“You have a tower,” Peter says without thinking.

His stomach drops. He can’t take Tony there. It’s not Stark Tower anymore. Tony could get hurt there… 

Because he’s a  _ hostile _ , Peter remembers. But he can’t be. He’s Tony Stark. He’s Iron Man, even if his armour looks different. And his eyes… Those eyes watch Peter now inescapably closely. Peter wishes that the man would say something, but he just waits.

“You built it,” Peter starts eventually, “and called it Stark Tower, but then aliens attacked, and the Avengers was formed, and you renamed it.” Peter is not sure if the man really cares about the explanation, but he goes on anyway. Having those attentive eyes focussed on him again is pure bliss. “They even lived there for a time, I think. But then they moved out. You stayed.” He hesitates. “You took me there,” he whispers, blushing. He’s vaguely aware that it wasn’t  _ this  _ man doing all those things but saying  _ you  _ to him is too tempting to resist.

“I took you,” the man repeats, boring into Peter’s eyes.

“You did.” He feels the sting of tears again, but he blinks them away.

"And how did I find you?" Tony asks. 

"YouTube," Peter offers, his voice cracking, fighting tears again but smiling at the same time. Tony cups his face instantly. His touch is soft, but he doesn't let Peter look away. 

"You needed help. I'm strong.”

“How strong?”

“Stopped 3000 pounds, 40 miles per hour.” Peter repeats words from long ago. “I had a building collapse over me.”

“And?”

“I got up and fought.”

“For what?”

Peter’s throat is tight. Even though the answer comes to him instantly, he's never said it out loud. Never admitted it to himself, either. His head is pounding, and his face burns up.

Tony’s hand shifts from his cheek to under his chin. It’s enough to prompt Peter to answer.

“You,” he breathes, barely audible, but it’s enough.

Tony’s armour retreats and the man pulls him to himself.

Peter melts into his touch and the lines between the outside world and the inside blur. He’s not sure anymore if it’s Tony’s heartbeat or his own that fills his ears. He doesn’t know whether he’s on top of Governors Island vent building, Avengers Tower or the lighthouse. He loses track of time. He doesn't even attempt to hold the it together, just watches the threads of reality disentangle and slip through his fingers. He is in Tony's arms. This is the only truth he wants or needs.

But then why does it hurt so much? Why doesn't reuniting with the one he loves make the pain fade away? Peter shifts in the embrace. Does it really feel stiffer? And why would that be a problem? It's Tony and if his edges are rougher and his gaze colder it's only a trick of Peter's mind. It’s still Tony. He's not mistaken. His senses wouldn't betray him like this. 

He wouldn't betray his team like this...

"I could lift Mjolnir," Peter whispers into Tony chest, trying to convince himself as much as the man. "After the battle, I picked it up and gave it to Cap," he says, his eyes burning as the mention of that day brings back the image of Tony's dead body in the debris. Peter chokes on a sob. 

"Ah, look at you," Tony croons, tilting his chin up. "Strong  _ and  _ worthy. Such a good boy," he praises, brushing his thumb across Peter's lips. "Yet now here you are begging for my cock," he finishes, tightening his grip on Peter's jaw. 

The crass words are unlike anything he ever heard from Tony. They make his chest constrict and his cheeks burn with shame, but there’s no denying their truth.

"Yes," Peter breathes, staring at the man mesmerised through his tears.

Tony smirks and brushes his lips against Peter’s.

It takes Peter a good moment to come around from the vertigo that seizes him. He blinks his eyes open, shuddering when he inhales.

Tony’s eyeing him with a wolfish grin.

“So eager…” he remarks under his breath. “Did you hear a word I said?” he asks in a clearer voice.

Why is Tony so harsh? Why does he keep embarrassing him? Peter feels so small. So pathetic. He has to prove himself to Tony, show him that he’s not just some  _ kid... _ He smiles to himself. It’s all right. He’s done that before. He’s already convinced Tony once that he’s not a kid. And Tony believed him. He said so after they made love for the first time. Peter’s smile widens. He beams up at Tony, his heart overflowing with emotion.

“Shh, sweet boy,” Tony soothes, wiping a tear from his cheek that Peter didn’t even notice have escaped.

"Let’s go home,” Peter says, pressing a kiss into Tony’s palm before taking his hand.

The man squints. “Home… Can you take me home?”

Peter nods, still smiling and impatient to go.

“Sure. Tony wanted--” his voice breaks, pain flooding his chest, but he presses it down quickly. “I needed to be able to get in and out of the penthouse without the others noticing. The protocols must be still in place. No one knew but--  _ us _ ,” he finishes.

As they start towards the tower, Peter feels the rush of flying above the city again. He hasn’t had it since-- but it’s here again, adrenaline coursing through his veins, mixing with desire and urging him towards their destination.

When the tower comes into view, he pauses on top of a building. Tony lands next to him just seconds away. He eyes the tower silently for a while, his expression unreadable, then he turns towards Peter. 

"You wouldn't be so cruel as to lure me into a trap, would you?" he asks. 

"No," Peter cries. "I'm taking us home," he adds more softly. Why does Tony even have to ask?

"Lead the way, then," the man nods and Peter jumps. 

Once inside, Tony takes looks around the apartment, but Peter has only eyes for him. He doesn’t have to wait long: the man turns away from the room and towards him.

“Such a good boy,” he says, cupping Peter’s cheek. “You deserve a reward for being so good to me, wouldn’t you say?” he asks teasingly.

Peter chest is ready to explode with desire, but he wants to play it right.

“Only if you want it, too,” he replies.

Tony closes the distance between them, his suit retreating as he moves. He looks down at Peter, lips inches away from his. “Oh, you know perfectly well what I want,” he says with a sly grin before kissing Peter hard.

Every thought is blown from Peter’s mind at once. His knees give out, but he’s held up by a pair of strong arms.

When they separate, Peter is exhilarated. He clutches Tony’s shirt, still needing support and buries his face in the crook of Tony’s neck.

“Look at me,” Tony calls softly. “Ah, your eyes were so beautiful filled with tears.”

“I…” Peter begins, mind fuzzy, no idea what to say.

“Yes, you. You are craving my cock so badly. I bet you’d even cry, if I didn’t give it to you.”

Euphoria gives way to humiliation and Peter’s eyes well up. He doesn’t get it. Why does Tony say things like this? Is he really this pathetic? What should he do to be better? Good for him?

“Shh, it’s okay,” Tony soothes. “I’m going to give it to you. But first…” he says, running his hands down Peter’s body, “I want to see you.”

Peter sighs. It’s okay. This is the Tony he knows. He loves watching him. No matter how impatient he is, he always undresses Peter. Kisses his body. Tells him he’s beautiful. 

This is only slightly different, getting out of the suit for Tony. He doesn’t even mind that he’s not wearing anything but his boxers underneath. He wants Tony to see him. He wants it even though as he catches a glimpse of the blue irises, he wonders if he’ll be cold under those icy eyes.

“Show me your cock, too,” Tony orders when Peter straightens up.

Peter hides his nerves behind a smile. He palms himself before pulling his shorts down but Tony cuts in harshly.

“No.”

His eyes dart up at the man, wondering what he did wrong, his heart beating fast again.

“Don’t touch, sweet boy,” Tony says in a softer voice but he’s still stern. “I want to see what I can do to you untouched.”

Peter gulps. Those words send his blood rushing down and make his half-hard cock throb.

“Yes,” he whispers, the word coming out involuntarily.

“Good,” Tony approves. “Go on.”

Peter does as he’s told, overwhelmed by the myriad of emotions awakened in him by this man.

“You seem to enjoy this,” Tony says, observing his half-hard cock with the measured air of a scientist. “But we can do better than that,” he adds, slipping his hand on Peter’s neck.

For a split second Peter is scared, but then Tony’s fingers shift, and he grasps his jaw to pull him up for a kiss. Even though the soreness of his rough grip fades in seconds, tears fill Peter’s eyes again. This time, however, they are tears of pleasure. He gives in to Tony completely, opening up for him, accepting every sensation, he rouses in him.

Soon, Peter runs out of breath, but Tony still doesn’t release him. He keeps devouring his mouth, drawing the filthiest sounds of him and holding him tight all the while. Peter gasps and moans pitifully without any idea what he’s begging for.

When Tony pulls away eventually, Peter needs to take his arm to keep himself upright. He’s panting and needs a few seconds to make sense of the words that Tony speaks.

“Hmm, this is much better,” 

Peter looks up at him, then follows his gaze. Tony is taking in his cock. He’s rock hard now, almost painfully so and precum is glistening on his head.

He can’t hold back his moan, but it seems to please Tony, for it earns him a praise. It feels amazing, but he can’t help worrying that he'll disappoint. Maybe that’s not a bad thing, though... Maybe that’s what he needs to be good.

Peter is startled from his thoughts by the sight of Tony’s hand going to the hem of his pants. 

“Excited?” Tony asks.

Peter nods, licking his lips. 

"Want a taste already? Are you so sure that I'm hard for you?"

Peter's head jerks up. 

_ I'm so hard for you, Petey. You always make me so hard _ , he remembers. It wasn't in the penthouse, but in the labs a few floors below. Tony was grinding against him from behind, uttering those words almost plaintively, then taking him right there, leaning on a table for much needed support. He was so hard. So thick. So delicious in Peter's ass. 

Peter blinks. Blue eyes watch him. Beautifully shaped and hungry but lacking the ever-present warmth Peter loves so much. He squirms and tries to retrace the conversation in his head. 

Making Tony hard. For him. Just for him. So that they can finally be together again. 

"I can make you hard," he assures, searching Tony's face. 

The man chuckles and pushes down his pants. The sight of his cock makes Peter gasp. He's fully erect, his skin a deep pink and velvety looking. 

"Yes, you can" he says with a low chuckle. 

A shiver runs down Peter's spine and he reaches to touch Tony's hip. He runs his fingers down his groin to brush against his balls. Tony has shaven since the last time they were together. It feels odd, but not unpleasant. Peter closes his fingers lightly around his base. He strokes him, barely touching, just savouring the heat and the smoothness of his skin. 

The man lets him go on, reacting with soft hisses and sighs. When Peter drops to his knees however, he stops him.

"Do you think you can take me?" 

Peter huffs out a laugh. The number of times he's blew Tony… 

"Don't you remember?" he asks, flicking his tongue out to lick the head of Tony's cock. 

The man slaps him. It's not hard but it's enough to tear Peter's attention from his erection. He looks up at Tony's face in confusion. 

"Not while we are talking." 

He could have just said so, Peter thinks, taking a deep, steading breath to make his fright go away not for the first time this evening. 

"Remind me sweetheart," Tony starts, and the low hum of his voice as he speaks the endearment makes Peter forgive his roughness in an instant. "Can you take me  _ all _ the way down?" 

Peter nods feverishly.

"Good boy," Tony says, patting his cheek. "Open up." 

Peter regrets not getting a chance to kiss and suck him first, but maybe afterwards. Tony must be impatient. God, it's been so long. 

Peter moans as he feels the heavy weight of Tony's cock on his tongue. He eases his jaw, opening up wider. He gasps when Tony hits his throat. No matter how prepared he is, the sensation always takes him by surprise. The man pauses just long enough for Peter to inhale again, before closing his fist in his hair and pushing in deeper. 

Peter gags. Tears flood his eyes and as Tony pulls out, he tries to make a sound to let him know that it's too much. It's the signal they agreed on and Peter is relieved to get it out his already sore throat before Tony's cock hits him hard again.

Fighting for air, he reaches up to grab Tony's wrist. The man's grip tightens to painful in his hair, but he pulls Peter's head back and he can breathe again. 

"I asked if you could take me down," he snaps, letting go of Peter. 

"I…" Peter sobs, not knowing what he wants to say. 

"It's okay," Tony says in a softer voice. "Do it as you please," he allows. Peter blinks up at him through his tears. "If you still want to…" Tony adds when Peter doesn't move.

Of course, Peter wants to. He wants nothing more than to be with Tony. He'll do anything to feel Tony lips on him again, to feel those arms holding him, to feel as complete as only Tony can make him when he's inside him. He hates that his body is failing him, failing Tony… 

"I do," he manages and doesn't wastes another second. 

He hums loudly when he the familiar taste of Tony's cock fills his mouth again. He hollows his cheeks and sucks on him hard. Tony swears under his breath, and Peter can feel his fingers in his hair again. He takes a deep breath and loosens his jaw before taking Tony in as deep as he can. It's less scary now that he's in control, but he knows that it's not as satisfying either. He keeps him down for as long as he can before pulling back and tightening his lips around his shaft. 

The sounds, Tony makes serve as constant encouragement. Peter follows them eagerly. The feeling that starts to bloom in his chest, although familiar, never ceases to amaze him. Nothing, nothing can come close to the joy of pleasuring Tony. 

He takes him in for longer and longer periods, bobbing his head more boldly, letting him hit the back of his throat again and again. When he finally feels ready Peter pulls back all the way and speaks in a hoarse voice. 

"I'm ready. Do it again." 

Tony eyes him silently for a few seconds, stroking his cock absently. Then, he reaches for Peter's hand and pulls him up. 

"No," he says without explanation. Then, "Take me to bed." 

Peter's worries evaporate in a second. He beams at Tony and hugs him without thinking. When Tony's arms don't come around him however, he freezes. 

"Is this… Is this okay?" he asks tentatively. 

"Oh, sweetheart," Tony whispers, embracing him tight. "You are a loving, gentle boy, aren't you?" 

If he didn't know better, Peter would think that he's surprised. He just giggles softly and presses and open-mouthed kiss on Tony's shoulder. 

"Come on," he says, stepping away eventually and starting towards the bedroom. 

Tony follows him but stops in the doorway. Peter pauses, too and turns back. 

"I just got home, sweetheart," Tony explains, leaning against the doorframe. "Show me how you are waiting for me." 

Peter's answering grin is replaced by a frown almost immediately. 

"Um…" he begins tentatively. "I would… Normally, I would take a shower and um... clean myself." 

"No need for that now," Tony says. "Unless… Will there be a problem?" he asks, his expression turning dark. 

Peter tries to focus on his body, to read its signals, but all he gets is the frantic hammering of his heart. But he's barely eaten all day. And his metabolism is way too fast for his breakfast to cause a problem. But still… When those blue eyes pin him down like this, every decision feels a thousand times more serious. 

"No," he breathes. Then, he repeats more firmly. "No, there won't be." 

He smiles when Tony's features soften again and scurries to the bed. 

As he climbs up, he makes sure to arch his back in a way that shows off the curve of his ass. The touch of the soft material makes his chest ache and the scent… 

Suddenly, it hits him how long it's been since he was last here. It was before… Peter turns abruptly, gracelessly even. He doesn't care. He needs… He needs… Tony is there, watching him. 

"Breathe," he tells him. 

Of course. Peter needs to breathe. And he can now. He inhales and Tony's scent fills his lungs again. But it doesn't hurt now, because he is there. He is there. 

Peter sags with relief and lies back. The softness of the sheets envelopes him like an embrace. He runs his hands down his chest and between his legs. Before touching his now soft cock however, he remembers Tony's words. He ends up squeezing his thighs instead, whining in frustration but Tony's low  _ good boy _ makes it worth it. 

Peter spreads his legs and teases his hole, panting softly while his other hand finds his nipple. Soon, he’s pushing his head into the pillows and moaning loudly as he’s fingering himself under Tony's watchful eyes.

"This is how you'd wait for me?" the man asks in a husky voice. 

Peter looks up and his reply dies on his lips. Tony is leaning casually against the wall, stark naked. He looks breathtaking, chiselled chest, defined abs and that cock, Peter is dying to have inside him again. 

If Tony appears younger or in better shape, that must be a trick of his mind. Peter hasn't seen Tony since… It's been way too long. If he looks even better than he remembered, that's no surprise. He's always had the habit of stealing Peter's breath away. 

When he's regained the ability to speak, Peter lets out a timid  _ yes _ . Then a  _ no _ . 

He blushes. He rolls onto his stomach so that he can reach into the bedside cabinet and he takes out the lube along with his favourite toy. 

He kneels, pushing his ass out, and looks back at Tony over his shoulder. 

"I'd be playing with this," he admits, licking the toy coyly.

"Why?" Tony rasps, running his hand across his torso. 

"I enjoy it. And you've been away for so long," Peter complains, flipping open the lube. 

"And that thing can replace me?" Tony asks, pushing away from the wall and staring towards the bed. As he closes in, his slow steps seem almost predatory. 

"No," Peter stammers, sitting back onto his heels so that he can face Tony better. "Of course not," he huffs with a disbelieving smile.

Tony stops at the edge of the bed, his blue gaze hard and unforgiving. Peter twitches and discards the toy quickly. His eyes are glued to Tony in a desperate attempt to decipher his mood. Time seems to slow down; Peter can feel every heartbeat resounding loudly in his chest. He holds his breath, still searching the man’s eyes. This man who is everything to him. He wants to reach out, to do the right thing, to earn a smile on those lips but he’s paralysed, halfway between apprehension and desire.

Eventually Tony moves. He extends a hand.

As it moves towards his face, Peter closes his eyes. When he senses the gentle caress, he lets out a shaky whimper.

“Look at me, sweet boy,” Tony says. “Peter,” he calls when Peter is a second too late in obeying, enjoying the endearment.

“Can you take me?” Tony asks again.

“Yes,” Peter breathes, suddenly hot all over.

The man takes his cock and it’s impossible not to look. Peter gulps. He’s familiar with the stretch of that girth. He remembers the fullness, when Tony buries himself deep inside him.

“Please,” he whines, his cock leaking.

“Are you sure? I won’t stop again,” the man warns.

Half-dazed, Peter tears his eyes from Tony’s cock and looks up at him.

“I want you inside me,” he says plainly.

Several emotions flicker through Tony’s face before he settles on a smirk.

“Move,” he demands, putting a knee on the mattress.

Peter obeys, his eyes never leaving the beautiful man towering over him.

“You want to look at me?” he asks as he positions himself between Peter’s legs.

Peter nods, out of breath again.

Tony runs a hand across his forehead, pushing a few locks back. Then, he cups Peter’s cheek.

“But then I’ll need you to  _ look _ . To keep those pretty eyes of yours open and watch me as I take you.”

Peter blinks, squeezing his eyes shut as he draws a steadying breath. What Tony is asking is impossible, but Peter will do it for him.

Tony however sees his hesitation and calls him out before he can answer.

“Cheating already?” he teases, nudging his cock against Peter’s entrance. Then, in a much harder tone, “what is it going to be?”

“Do it,” Peter moans, pressing down onto Tony’s erection but the man stops him with an iron grip on his hip.

Peter gasps at the pain but it doesn’t even have time to fade away when he feels Tony pushing inside him. Peter’s eyes sting and start to water as he forces them to stay open. He stares at the man above him, barely seeing through his tears.

He is whole again. Complete. Alive.

Peter falls.

The hot drops running down on his temple anchor him, as does the firm hand gripping his hip. He remembers to open his eyes.

“Tony,” he whimpers.

The answer is a hard thrust. The first one.

Peter cries out. He’s floating now, back arching, body undulating, seeking the well-known rhythm of their union. 

He is denied.

Tony’s pulls out almost completely and while the stimulation, it provides is amazing, Peter is yearning for more. Tony slams back into him. Peter has been expecting it and it helps him to keep his eyes open. He sees the satisfaction on Tony’s face.

“Please,” he asks slowly, straining against Tony’s hand on his hip.

Tony holds his gaze, his expression triumphant, savouring the power, he has over Peter. Then the moment breaks; his whole body jerks and he thrusts involuntarily into Peter, giving him exactly what he asked for.

“Fuck,” he hisses, leaning over Peter. “The things you make me do,” he whispers.

Peter gasps and moans, when he feels Tony’s arm push between him and the mattress, lifting him as the rhythm of his thrusts picks up. His head falls back, and he dissolves into pure ecstasy as Tony starts fucking him, holding him in his arms. 

He has no idea how much time has passed when he feels Tony's hand at the back of his head. Peter blinks to get the man into focus, then reaches up, mimicking Tony's movement. He presses his forehead against Tony's and kisses him. The man is only a heartbeat late in reciprocating, biting down on Peter's lip, devouring him with a passion matching Peter's own desperation. 

When they separate, Peter opens his eyes again, locking gazes with Tony. The blue of his irises is like a patch of open sky far above him. It's a beam of hope that Peter needs to hold on to. This man is his world, his destiny. 

Even through the haze of bliss, Peter craves more. He starts meeting Tony's thrusts with a breathy cry, chasing something, something beyond pleasure, something, perhaps, beyond the reach of reality.

"Come back, Peter," Tony calls. 

Peter smiles at him dazedly. He blinks, to get his vision sharpen again and sighs. They are still rocking together, but Peter feels utterly spent. He runs his fingers along Tony's face, his heart beating heavily and his chest full of love. 

Then, Peter's gaze shifts and he notices the drying stripes of cum on their bodies. Before he can ask Tony if he really came however, the man thrusts into him again. Peter gasps, tightening his grip on his shoulder. Tony slams his hips upwards again. They stare into each other's eyes, and Tony moves a third time.

It's not painful but it's not pleasurable either. It's worth it though, to get to hear Tony's breathing become more laboured with each slow but forceful thrust. Then, there's a pause, a heartbeat and another. Tony's panting now, his whole body taut like an animal ready to pounce. Peter holds his breath, staring back at his lover with wide eyes. Then, Tony starts pounding into him, all restraint abandoned. 

Peter cries out. 

"Tony! Tony, oh god! It's too much! Tony, please!" 

All the answer he gets is Tony's hand on the small of his back, tilting his hips, so that he's hitting Peter's prostate directly. Hissing, Peter bites his own lip so hard, he tastes blood. The incredible stimulation makes him see stars. Then, almost imperceptibly, something stirs inside him and starts to grow, spreading through unfamiliar paths in his system. When Peter meets Tony’s eyes again, it blooms into beautiful, toe-curling pleasure and makes his breath hitch.

Tony’s reaction is immediate. He buries his fingers into Peter’s curls, grasping almost painfully hard and shifts his other hand down to grab his bottom. Although Peter still holds onto him to keep himself upright, now his body is guided entirely by Tony.

“Tony, please,” Peter hears himself beg.

Pressure grows at the pit of his stomach and the sight of Tony’s features contorting with both agony and pleasure sends a hot wave down Peter’s body. Then, Tony’s cock grows impossibly harder, stretching and filling him completely. Peter lets out a keening whimper and squeezes Tony’s shoulder in anticipation.

He wants to feel every twitch and throb of the man’s release, but suddenly his mind is blurred as the gentle fires all over his body explode all at once, and Peter is gasping through an orgasm that is nothing like he’s ever experienced before. Completed by the sensation of Tony’s cock pulsating and spurting his hot cum inside him, it’s pure ecstasy.

The last thing Peter sees before passing out from the overwhelming exhaustion is that bright blue patch of sky, he’s been trying to reach all along. He smiles. He’s there. Heaven is at arm’s reach.

And it’s still there, all over above the city on the other side of the tall windows, when Peter opens his eyes a few hours later. He smiles again. He’s had a terrible nightmare, where Tony was gone... But he’s awake now. He pulls the cover around his naked body as he gets up and walks out into the living area.

Tony is there, standing in front of a hologram.

“You are here,” Peter says, relieved that the nightmare is really over.

Tony turns. His eyes match the sky and the eerie, pulsating glow of the arc reactor.

“Where else would I be? This is my Earth now.”

Peter hums and steps to the window.

His Earth. His dominion. 

His home. Here, with Peter.

He smiles.


End file.
